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Friday, 29 January 2016


Since when did they give names to Storms? Hurricanes have a history of being named but storms? Well, whatever, but this wind and sleet slamming into our windows is called Gertrude, I believe. 

Just thinking it might have added a touch of levity to the overwhelming awesomeness of the event  if Jesus had stood up in the boat and commanded, ‘Peace, be still, Gertrude!’ 

Or George.

Nameless or known by a name – oh, that’s a whole new avenue I didn’t intend to go down! God knows each one of us by name, and he has new names ready and waiting for us in the future. Beautiful names which resonate with the everlasting love God has for each one of us.

But back to storms. This one threatens, like the Big Bad Wolf in the 3 Little Pigs story, to huff and puff and blow down my house. The windows are rattling in their frames. Gertrude’s icy fingers are tapping their sharp nails on the glass. The trees are bending and swaying alarmingly. 

Inside, though, so far the electricity is still connected as is the telephone. The heating has now gone off but the room in which I sit is warm enough. Soon I can boil a kettle and make a coffee. Until I venture outside, Gertrude’s intrusion into my life is minimal. (May it continue to be so....)

The granite walls may buckle in an earthquake but Gertrude stands no chance of blowing them over. Jesus told a story about a couple of houses, one built on sand and the other on the rock. The one collapsed when the storm sprang up while the other withstood the onslaught.

There are one or two things blowing about in my life which could escalate into the strength of Gertrude, but I’m trusting in the granite assurances of scripture and the powerful presence of my saviour. Don’t let any Gertrudes blow you over today. Trust in the promises of our everlasting God, who has you covered and who can still the roughest of storms with a word.

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